


You'll Never Be Alone

by StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans!707, cameo by Fo, not catfishing, will update as needed - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-11-03 12:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10967262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke
Summary: Though not out yet, 707 just wants to live her life in peace as Saeyeon Choi. She has no intention of dating.But Zen might just change everything.





	1. Chapter 1

“Bye, Saeyeon!”

Yun Hee’s voice echoes across the parking lot over the sound of the clicking of my heels and I turn just far enough to blow her a kiss, ignoring the slight sparkle in her eye as she pretends to catch it and stow it away. Even when I’m being truthful to who I am I still find myself hiding behind playfulness and bad jokes, and just like with Mi-Cha, I find people thinking there’s a chance for more with me when there isn’t.

My favorite red car is sitting in the parking lot only a few feet from me but I bypass it, intent on walking to the little cafe only a few blocks down from the center that holds the meetings I go to twice monthly. “Support for Transgendered Individuals,” the poster had read when I first saw it on one of my rare outings into the real world to get some groceries at the behest of Vanderwood. I hadn’t done more than considered the idea at that point, still firmly planted within the closet to everyone except a small portion of myself that knew I felt out-of-place in my own body. I froze in my steps to read and reread it, slowly reaching out one shaking hand to tear off the little tab with the Fakebook page and phone number on it to slip in my pocket before I could even truly react.

It was only a matter of time after that.

The cafe that I frequent was one I discovered truly by accident, but now I make sure to visit at least once weekly, if not twice, depending on my schedule and how much my slave overlord is choosing to hover over me with their sharp eyes skewering every move I make. I made a joke once in the chat room about opening a cat cafe next door to Jaehee and Mi-Cha’s shop so we could all see each other every day, and instead of supporting my stroke of genius, everyone teamed up to tell me it was a bad idea. Zen offhandedly mentioned that he ran past one every night on his way home and I immediately looked it up and fell in love.

I might own part of it now. Never say I don’t invest money in things that are important.

The Cat’s Meow is a two-story building with the cafe on the lower level and a library on the top. It’s open late and usually populated by uni students looking for a place to study that won’t kick them out when the clock strikes 10pm. Open late and offering a wide variety of snacks, drinks and plenty of lovely cats to pet, this treasure is tucked between a gym and veterinary office and brings in far more revenue than I expected for being such a well-kept secret. The owners are a cute little couple who never had children and just wanted to share their love of coffee and cats. Mr. Park actually owns the vet clinic next door while Ms. Lee runs the shop, but they’ve been discussing moving in the next few years. Hence, me coming to own part of it. Should they decide to move, I’ll purchase the rest from them. I’m already saving up the money from any jobs I do in anticipation. Maybe I can retire.

Once I cross the street I’m blinded by the bright lights from the gym, multiple people running on the treadmills placed near the windows. I barely spare them a glance as I hurry past, not wanting to risk seeing anyone I know there, like maybe a certain handsome actor who tends to work out at this time of night. I doubt he would recognize me as I am, but ever since the truth of who the person was in the picture of the maid I posted broke, he’s been a little more skeptical. At least, online he has. I suppose I don’t know about his habits in real life; he’s still constantly complaining about being single, so he can’t be looking _too_ hard to find a girlfriend. Either way, it’s a risk I’d rather avoid, if at all possible. It causes me enough anxiety to have to walk down a street I know is on both his running route and his way to and from work, not to mention passing the gym he works out at. I’d rather not somehow increase the likelihood of being discovered until such a time comes when I’m truly comfortable with outing myself to the RFA.

When the gym is behind me I look up at the modern-style building in front of me. The front is painted a sage green with tables in the enclosed patio in case anyone doesn't want to be around the cats (surely a crime) or simply wishes to enjoy the weather when it's nice. White letters outlined in purple boldly proclaim the name of the cafe and if I look higher, I can see the two small bay windows the cats like to sit in and watch as unsuspecting people go about their business. Walking through the door always gives me a sense of peace I have been unable to find elsewhere; in here I am Saeyeon, just a simple woman who likes to have hot chocolate, extra whipped cream with shaved chocolate and cinnamon on top while reading a book and petting a purring feline.

The young uni student behind the counter waves cheerfully at me when the bell softly rings to alert them to my presence. “Good evening, Saeyeon!” they greet cheerfully, moving their sketchbook to the side and grinning. “Did you want your usual tonight?”

Nodding, I flash them my signature lopsided smile as I approach the counter. “You know me so well, Fo,” I say, leaning on the glass surface and tapping my fingers in the beat of the song playing softly overhead. “How's my little otter doing in art school?”

Fo giggles and grabs a large cup, turning their back to me as they start making my drink. Shorter than me by a few inches and sporting dark brown hair with orange tips, Fo is an international student from Mexico who is an absolute delight to talk with.  Always bursting with energy and creativity, it didn't take me long to learn all the little artistic touches around the cafe boiled down to their talent.

“It's hard,” they admitted, just the slightest trace of bitterness in their voice. “A lot harder than I had thought. Between homework, classes and work, I'm lucky to get five hours of sleep a night sometimes.”

I frown; this is a struggle I'm intimately familiar with and not one I wish upon anyone else. Exhaustion from being stretched too thin is dangerous. “Make sure you take care of yourself, cutie. Can't have my otter half falling ill, can I?” When they turn back to glance at me I wink, grinning. A faint pink tints their cheeks and I can see the cogs turning as they work out how to respond.

This is another thing I enjoy about coming here, our flirty banter. We go back and forth, sometimes to the point where we both end up laughing at how ridiculous we can be. In a different life, I'd like to imagine us as friends. Alas, not everyone gets their happy endings…

“There was a man in here asking after you the other day.” Handing me my finished cup, Fo gives me an unreadable look. “He had a hard time between fits of sneezing, but I'm pretty sure he wants to ask you out.”

I quirk an eyebrow, wordlessly pointing at a cinnamon roll that looks fairly fresh. Someone asking after me… Well, they're in for a disappointment. This girl is off the market, a fish in a caged tank instead of the sea. Romance is not an option for someone despicable like me, a person who doesn't exist and never should. Just call me your local cryptid, the mysterious Seven-Zero-Seven by day, the elusive Saeyeon by night, never meant to experience the throes of passion.

That's just the way it has to be.

Fo places the roll on a cream-colored plate and sets it on the counter, still watching me for a reaction. Shrugging, I dig in my purse and pull out enough won for both and a tip before grabbing it. “Let him ask. I'm not looking for a relationship. Not now, not ever. I'm a career woman.” An insistent brush of fur against my calf catches my attention and I instinctively smile down at the grey tabby cat threading through my legs. “And a cat woman,” I amend, gently rubbing against him with my ankle. “C’mon Kaycee, upstairs we go.”

The downstairs level is decorated like what one might expect of a typical cat cafe, with multiple tables and chairs populating the floor along with a multitude of cat toys and different towers to allow them to play to their heart’s content. At any given time there can be any variety of cats and kittens lazing about, depending on what's been brought in and who’s been adopted. Another reason I found myself attached the moment I first walked through the door, the owners have their three cats but house multiple others who need homes. People come in to look at them and often the adoption rate is high, much higher than at the local pounds. Here the cats are taken care of and get plenty of human interaction, so most are friendly.

Kaycee is the exception to that rule. A beautiful cat with a heart on his shoulder, he's typically shy and easily frightened by anyone new. He showed up around the same time that I started coming - about six months ago - and I was the first person he attached himself to. Both the owners and Fo have tried to talk me into adoption and it aches that I have to tell them no, but Vanderwood has made it _very_ clear that if I bring any animal home, they will dispose of it in whatever manner they see fit. I've toyed with the idea of asking if I can adopt him but have him stay here. I have no problem supplying food or any expenses. Maybe I should.

A trip up the wooden staircase takes the two of us into the slightly softer light of the second level, plush couches and chairs arranged between bookshelves and more cat trees. It's quiet and relaxing up here, and I take my normal seat in the corner by one of the windows overlooking the street, Kaycee curling up next to me. Yeah, I really should make him officially mine. Setting down my drink and plate on the small table next to me, I run my hand over his soft fur and smile as he purrs happily.

And so my routine begins, where I sip my drink and poke at the cinnamon roll while petting Kaycee, surfing Tripter on the one social media profile I've ever allowed myself to have. I mostly only follow people from the meeting and a few celebrities or leaders in the LGBT community, specifically having searched out individuals outspoken on trans issues. There are a few oddballs that I follow for curiosity’s sake, like certain political leaders or perhaps someone I'll only ever know as the sperm donor that led to the creation of two unwanted children… but that's neither here nor there.

After I've savored the last bite of the pastry, I stand and stretch a moment, patting Kaycee on the head when he ‘mrrp’s and rolls over, watching me with lazy eyes, undoubtedly knowing what comes next. I'm not normally given the option to have any sort of routine - my work schedule is too unpredictable, prone to throwing me to the wolves of impatient clients at a moment’s notice for me to have one - but I find that having one is actually rather comforting to me.

The bookshelves are old up here and hold even older versions of books, their familiar scent permeating the air. God, I love it here. It only takes a moment of browsing to lay a finger on what I'm looking for, the second novel in the Lady of the Bracelets trilogy. I've seen all of the movies - went to the cinema with Yoosung for a few - but since I started coming here I’ve decided to read them. There's quite a few differences, slight changes in plot or omission of characters or entire sections, but overall I feel the films (well, the first at least, since I haven't finished the other books yet) did as good as they could without being incredibly long.

I sink back into the chair, Kaycee moving to my lap as I find my bookmark and pick up at the part where Frado and Tam are traveling the marshlands with Gollim. This is the part of the night most unpredictable; sometimes I read until I get tired and have to leave; sometimes I get a phone call from ye olde warden; other times I'm here until Fo kicks me out.

I've lost track of time when another cup of hot chocolate is placed next to me, something Fo does on nights I've been here long enough.”Thanks, babe,” I say absentmindedly, completely absorbed in the thrilling tale unfolding before my eyes, so much so that I don't even notice when Kaycee disappears.

A disturbingly familiar chuckle causes me to rip my attention from the page and my heart thumps against my chest in a panic when I look up to see none other than _Zen_ standing before me.

“Babe, huh? Should I be jealous of whoever you thought I was?” he asks with a wink, dropping into the chair across from me. I'm doing an abhorrent job at disguising my shock, barely managing to pick my jaw up off the ground before he continues. “I've been hoping to catch you here for a while. I've seen you pass by a few times, but catching sight of you up here in the window…” Pausing - no doubt for dramatic effect - Zen raises his arms in front of him and levels his most charming grin at me before continuing, “you look like an angel. May I know your name? The barista downstairs refused to give it to me.

“Ah, yes, _Fo_ would know better than to just give my name to a complete stranger,” I say in a disinterested tone, finally able to pull myself back together. How did this happen? I'd tried to take every precaution I could to avoid running into Zen and yet here he is, handsome as ever in front of me. Hell, I'm even in a _cat_ cafe, a place he should avoid as though it would give him the plague and he still found me.

I have to bite my tongue hard to not inquire about that aspect. I shouldn't give away how much I know about him.

“A stranger, yes, but hopefully not for long.” Leaning forward, Zen's face speaks of both curiosity and intrigue as he cocks his head to the side, eyes never leaving mine. “I'm Zen, and I was wondering if you'd allow me the pleasure of taking you on a date?”

I shut my book and stand, shaking my head. “I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. I'm sure you're a very nice guy, Zen, but I'm going to have to say no.” Moving around him quickly, I sling my purse over my shoulder and slide the book back where it goes. Without bothering to give him a chance to speak further, I trod down the stairs at a fast pace and wave goodbye to Fo. The longer I stay, the more I risk being discovered. I'm not ready for that.

The next few times I go he's already there, waiting for me. Never pushy but always offering a gentle reminder, Zen even attempts just casual conversation with me. I don't know what it is about me that's managed to so fully capture his attention - he even brings up the ‘mysterious girl’ in the chatroom- but it's obvious he doesn't intend to just let me go.

So finally, on the third night, I say yes in resignation. If he wants a date, then I'll give him one he'll never forget- one that will remove me from his mind forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *drumroll*  
> The Date.  
> Or,  
> In which Saeyeon learns Zen is not so easily discouraged.

I probably should’ve known Zen would end up choosing the highest-class place he could afford. When that man decides he wants something, he will do whatever he thinks it will take to achieve his goal and of course with dating, the nicer the place, the more impressive it is. Me being who I am aside, I’m having some mixed feelings on how to view this with him. It’s good that he’s not trying to ride the coattails of his good looks, charm and acting career, depending on them alone to snag him a girlfriend, but I can’t help feeling that he’s trying a little _too_ hard. I’m sure anyone else would be swooning right about now, pulling up in front of such a nice place to see the man of the hour standing looking _incredibly_ handsome, chatting with one of the doormen while he waits. I happen to have a more unique perspective, one not tainted by the desire to end up in his bed.

Well. Time to get the show on the road. Passing some money to the taxi driver, I scoot over to the side of the car, popping open the handle and swinging my legs over to exit the car. Despite my every intention to make this date flop, I wasn’t about to dress poorly; after all, where’s the fun in that? The moment my black studded heels hit the ground I’m standing, tossing the loose curls of my dark auburn wig over my shoulder and strutting toward Zen. I’d opted for a cute sleeveless black dress, the skirt ending about mid thigh with a sheer top. Finishing off the outfit with a slim belt at the waist to give the illusion of curves and a black bow headband in my hair makes me look stunning and I know it, so it’s not really a surprise when Zen’s jaw literally drops, lips parting slightly when his eyes finally fall on me.

With an easy smile I stride up to him, confident as a model on the walkway. “Okay, I’m here.” Rule one of the night: don’t be too friendly, nor too mean. I don’t want to give him the illusion that there’s hope for something between us but knowing Zen, being just plain bitchy wouldn’t work as a ward against him either. So I’ll be somewhere in the middle, hopefully plain and forgettable with a terrible sense of humor and showing absolutely no interest in him.

It takes less than a second for him to regain his composure and level that charming smile of his at me. “Saeyeon, I’m so happy you could make it!” Voice warm and sincere, Zen holds out his jacket-covered arm for me to take as his smile gentles to something far more genuine that makes my heart jump in my chest. Odd.

Rule number two: take any and every opportunity to have a quirk that might make things difficult in a relationship.

A quick intake of breath through my teeth and the minor raising of my shoulders cause the look on his face to falter. “Sorry, but uh… I’m not really into the touch thing,” I apologize flatly, looking at the extended arm with obvious disdain.

“Oh!” Zen blinks, clearly startled, before retracting it almost immediately. “Sorry, haha. Thanks for telling me. I can respect that.” Wait, that’s it? He just… moves on without it affecting him at all? I may not know every fact there is to know about Zen, but it’s always been clear that he’s a man of touch. How would this _not_ bother him?

Without missing a beat, Zen steps forward and opens the door, bowing his head respectfully and motioning for me to enter first. Stepping through, my breath catches in my throat at the beauty that surrounds us. Brightly lit, the contemporary influence is obvious with the swirled black and white ceiling, bamboo partitions and beautiful light wooden tables and chairs. The entirety of the inside appears to be rounded and curved, no corners anywhere in sight. As soon as we enter Zen steps in front to declare what our reservation is under and we’re led to a table for two next to one of the bamboo-lined walls where he pulls out my chair and then kindly pushes it back in once I take my seat. A gentleman through and through, not that it comes as any real surprise.

I knew this place existed among the myriad of restaurants in Seoul; after all, I know _most_ places in this city solely because it’s often relevant to my job. The chance to eat somewhere other than home or from the local convenience store is not one that comes by me often, busy as I am with a whip at my back and a proverbial ticking time bomb dictating how fast I must work. When Zen had inquired about my opinion on Japanese I had to exercise an embarrassing amount of self-control not to make my excitement known. One of my favorite cuisines and the chance to get sushi without the 50/50 lottery of also getting minor food poisoning? Count me in.

Zen requests some sort of beer I’m unfamiliar with and I stick to water, turning down the offer of the wine menu when offered. Alcohol holds no interest for me and never will; the past is too heavy for me to consider drinking. The silence while we look over our menus isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but neither is it the friendly type I’m used to having when we’re together. Honestly that’s probably all on my end since I’m incredibly nervous about this entire ordeal. One wrong move and he’ll figure out who I am and I don’t even want to _know_ how that’ll turn out for either of us. God, if I have to backpedal my ass so far into the closet to hide behind the large fur coats no one’s touched since Narnia I will, but I’d really rather not.

Once the waiter comes back and we’ve placed our food orders and the menus have been removed from our hands, I’m left with nothing to hide behind. I tap my right pinky on the table anxiously, aiming to be the picture of calm everywhere else as I purposefully take in our surroundings slowly, looking everywhere but at Zen.

“You don’t have to be nervous, babe. I promise I don’t bite.” Flicking my eyes over to him I see that Zen’s watching me, amusement painted across those handsome features of his.

I have to force back the response threatening to slide right off my tongue like turpentine, shoving away the flirtatious banter I tend to fall into with him to replace it with something that will comply with the first rule of the night. Thank God for secret agent training and my quick mind, otherwise this would be much harder. “Biting is hardly the thing I’d be worried about with you.”

Mouth quirking up, Zen rests his forearms on the table and leans over it slightly toward me. “Oh~? I’m intrigued; what would you be worried about, then?”

“That you have much more nefarious plans in mind than something as simple as a date.”

The confusion that flashes in his eyes briefly tells me he’s never had someone speak like this before. Excellent. I can probably carry this further. “Nefarious? What are you talking about?” he asks slowly, narrowing his eyes minutely.

Shrugging, I reach up and toy with the straw in my cup. “You’re too good-looking and smooth. History tells a story about your type. Hardly ever what you appear. Which is why you won’t get me to go anywhere with you tonight, and why it’s unlikely you’ll convince me to have a second date with you.”

Zen’s hurt is encompassed only by the rising levels of uncertainty I see on his face. I dashed his hopes less than fifteen minutes in and I can tell it took a toll by the slouch in his shoulders but he’s not giving up yet. “‘My type’? What do you mean by that?” Sitting back, he folds one arm across his chest while the hand of the other rests on his chin as he stares me down. “Actor? Handsome? Gentleman? Or are you referring to something else?”

The tapping of my finger increases. “All of the above. On the surface, you appear like the ideal man. Which means that you’re either pretending - and very good at it - for an undisclosed reason and are likely to revert to your true nature once ‘the chase’ is over, or it’s an act to lure me into my own destruction. Either way, unless you can somehow convince me you’re _not_ going to drug me and carry me out back to add me to a list of serial killers’ victims, this is the last time I’ll be seeing you.” Harsh. I know it is, but it is true that sociopaths often possess high levels of charm, like Zen. It’s impossible to disprove this type of challenge on a single date, so he’s going to be forced to give up. A loss, one I predict he’ll take bitterly, but one he’ll be forced to take nonetheless.

Which is why I’m so surprised when he starts to laugh.

It’s soft, muffled by the hand he moves up to cover his mouth. The rejection fades from his eyes to be replaced by humor and he shakes his head, gaze never leaving my face. “You’re really something, you know that?” he states when the laughter subsides, hand dropping to reach across the table and poke my pinky. “I have a friend who does that exact thing when he’s nervous but trying not to show it. Combined with that outlandish accusation, I couldn’t help but laugh. God, do you really think I’m _too_ perfect?”

I froze when he touched me but the minute he points out my tapping I slip my hand under the table. Shit. That wasn’t very smart of me. I didn’t think he’d ever noticed that about me before… ah, well, he doesn’t seem to suspect anything; it just worked to my disadvantage in this situation in a different manner.

“I’ve been called a lot of things before, but a serial killer is definitely new to the list. Haha, wow…” Zen chuckles again, taking a sip of his beer. “I know you didn’t mean it that way, but I’m going to take it as a compliment that I come off as too good to be true. Just another reason I know God made a mistake when he made me.”

Dumbstruck, I just stare at him, unable to completely process what’s happening. Did he _really_ just turn that into something good? Is his narcissism _that high_ that he can twist such a negative statement into something positive? Holy shit. That’s… impressive. I might be in more trouble than I thought.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to prove to you that I’m not just biding my time to snatch you away into the darkness, but I’m sure gonna try.” Once more that confident smile is sent my way and once more, my heart tries to leap out of my chest.

Not good.

“I… why?” I know I shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t try to clarify his reasons for continuing to pursue me because it shows interest, but I need to understand his drive. It’s already been put out there that I don’t intend to have another date with him unless he can achieve the impossible, so in theory it won’t do any harm. “Why would you want to unless you’re set on…?”

The waiter reappears and the conversation is paused while our food is set down in front of us. Zen’s obviously been here before and is having something he’s familiar with whereas I found the dish that had the most amount of sushi on it and chose it. I love sushi. No one knows how much I do, but honestly? I probably love it more than Honey Buddha Chips. Picking up my chopsticks I poke at it gently, wondering if I’ll be lucky enough that we’ll move on as if my question hadn’t been asked.

Not so much.

“Why would I want to try to convince you?” Zen asks, grabbing his set of chopsticks as well. “Do you really not know all the reasons I would be interested in you?”

“You know nothing about me,” I spit out, slightly more bitter than I mean. That’s the other me coming through, angry that I have let people think they’re my friends, that they know me well enough to be able to say “Yeah, I know Seven.” It’s all a lie. _I’m_ a lie. Like this, as Saeyeon, I am living my truth for once and yet here I am, feeling backed into a corner where I have to lie once more.

Taking a bite of his food, Zen cocks his head to the side while he chews, considering me. Unable to meet his simultaneously intense yet kind gaze, I lower my eyes back to my plate and help myself to the tuna roll there.

“You’re right, I don’t know nearly as much as I’d like to.” His voice is soft, soothing, and it feels like he’s talking to me like one might talk to a scared animal. I suppose it’s not a horribly incorrect comparison, since I am more or less doing the human version of snarling with how I’m talking to him. “But I do know that you like to read, enough that you go to the same cafe several nights a week to do so. I know that you’re kind even if you’re trying to convince me you’re not; it didn’t take much for me to get a few opinions on you from others who frequent that place. Quiet, you keep to yourself but apparently have a wicked sense of a humor and proclivity to flirting - I haven’t seen either of those two yet but I sure hope to soon.” He falls silent, letting the words rest in the air between us while we both eat.

Keeping my eyes trained on my food, I slowly turned over what he said in my mind. Asked around, huh. For whatever reason I’d captured his attention enough that he’d started to try to find out more about me. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t flattered. That’s twice now that I’ve sparked Zen’s interest, but this time he’s pursuing me unhindered. It’s hard to believe. Out of all the women in the city, out of all the people who would do almost anything go on a date with him, he chose _me._

“If you truly have no interest in going on a second date with me, that’s fine. I’ll leave you alone after tonight.” There’s the undertone of defeat I’ve been attempting to cultivate this entire time, but it doesn’t make me feel as relieved as it should. Zen raises his eyes up to meet mine again, muted hope still in them. “But would you indulge me in some conversation, at least?”

I hesitate. That’s my way out… and also offers the chance to not spend the rest of the meal in awkward silence. But is it wise? It’s dangerous, that much is certain. If I let loose too much, then I risk being discovered. God. Why is this so difficult?

“Okay,” I finally answer, uncertainty ringing through my voice. “But I doubt you’ll find me interesting.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

So we talk, about musicals and his current project, about his director and his aspirations. I dance around the questions about me, giving a lot of vague answers or redirecting the conversation back to him. One thing I’ve always appreciated about Zen’s love of talking about himself is that it makes it quite easy to take the spotlight off of myself. I finish my food first, popping the last bite of sushi into my mouth and savoring it while Zen regales me with a rather entertaining (albeit disturbing) story of drama from his last musical.

“Luckily a coworker of mine happened to pass by at the right time and heard the ruckus, so he came in and fended off the director before he did anything rash.” Zen still has a little food left when he notices that I’m done. “Ah, I talk too much, haha.”

Dabbing at my mouth with my napkin, I smile at him. “It’s okay. You lead an interesting life. I can’t believe you went through _that_ , though. And all because he was jealous of you?” Zen hadn’t shared this story in the RFA chat room. I wonder how much else he hasn’t shared with us. It’s possible he doesn’t want to scare Jaehee… or maybe he keeps more to himself than I thought.

“Yeah. It’s not unusual for people to get jealous and do stupid things, although that’s been the worst, hands down. The more shocking part is what he did after that.” Raising an eyebrow at me, he takes a bite, purposefully baiting me.

Which I’m not opposed to taking. “What do you mean?” I’m genuinely curious. This director had been a dangerous guy, rigging the set to have minor accidents to try to give Zen injuries and take him out of the musical. All because he thought Zen would steal his girl.

He takes his time chewing and swallowing, even taking a drink to draw out the suspense before answering me. Typical Zen dramatics. “He waited outside of the dressing room until I was done, then tried to grab my hair…” Zen lifts up his hand to make a snipping motion with his fingers. “And almost cut it.”

My eyes widen and I gasp, truly shocked. “What!? Why on earth would he try to do that?”

Zen shrugs. “He was probably mad that he lost his girl, even if it wasn’t to me. It’s lucky I have fast reflexes, otherwise I’d still be regrowing my hair right now. Either way, I staved off the attack and he ran. Haven’t seen him since.” Chopsticks clink against the table as he takes his last bite, sitting back in the seat. “This place never disappoints. Was your meal good?”

“Fantastic,” I say with a lopsided grin, cocking my head to the side. “Sushi is my favorite thing ever, but I rarely get the good stuff. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It was my pleasure, especially since I got to spend my time with a beautiful woman such as yourself.” With a wink and a smile, Zen beckons over the waiter. “Did you want dessert?”

“God, I wish I had room for it. It’s probably really good here.” Groaning softly, I set my elbow on the table and rest my chin in my hand. He really is nice to look at, even if that’s as far as this will go. Especially when he’s gone the extra mile to make himself even more handsome, hair pulled up with a ribbon and a dark turtleneck he probably knows brings out his eyes.

Zen asks for the check and pays, eyes only leaving me for the minimum amount of time needed to complete both of those actions. “Will you at least let me walk you to a cab? We can stay out front, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s fine.” Signing the receipt for his card with a flourish, Zen stands and I follow, wishing I hadn’t rebuffed his earlier offer to take his arm. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that makes me want to touch him for some reason. I don’t intend to indulge it, but it is an annoyance that I wish I could’ve avoided.

The silence is more familiar this time, allowing me to breathe easier. Despite our differences, Zen and I are actually pretty good friends - as much as I can have friends, anyway - and I miss hanging out with him like I used to. I admit, since pursuing my truth I’ve been neglecting my friends because I’m too much of a chicken to try to bring them into my new life. I should change that.

“Still worried I’m a serial killer?” Zen inquires curiously, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he leans toward me, eyes sparkling. He shouldn’t be so amused by this.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” I respond snarkily, mirroring him to lean in just a little. “My suspicions were correct: you’re a lady-killer, taking all of our hearts in your hands and then tossing them to the side. A serial heart-breaker.”

A delighted laugh breaks free from him, eyes flickering to the side as he raises an arm to flag down the taxi coming toward us. “You really are something else, you know that?” he muses, grinning widely. “I hope to take you out again one day.”

“Okay.” I slap a hand over my mouth as soon as the word is out, horrified. Oh, shit. Maybe he didn’t…?

“...really?” Damn. Those eyes soften and Zen looks at me, full of untempered hope and any fight goes out of me. That look he’s giving me, it feels like a weakness I didn’t know I have.

“Ye...yeah.” My teeth latch onto the inside of my lip and I chew at it, completely thrown off my guard by _myself._

The sound of squealing brakes alerts me to the fact that the taxi is pulling up next to us, and I glance at it, then back to Zen. There’s the slightest hint of affection on his face now, causing my heart to pick up speed. This isn’t good. None of this is good.

“Then I look forward to our next date,” he murmurs, stepping closer and slowly reaching out to take my hand, giving me every opportunity to draw away. When I don’t, he grasps it and brings it up to brush his lips across my knuckles whisper-soft, winking once more. “Until then, take care, Saeyeon.”

My knees feel weak as I slip into the taxi, Zen carefully shutting the door behind me and giving a wave as we start to pull away. I shakily raise a hand to wave back. What just happened? What did I just do?

_Shit._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Saeyeon at home~

Yoosung★: I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to find a date, Zen!  
Yoosung★: Wish I could find a girlfriend…  
Yoosung★:   
Jaehee Kang: Do you really think this is wise?  
ZEN: It’ll be fine, Jaehee. She’s a really cute lady.  
Jumin Han: A ‘cute lady.’  
Jumin Han: Apparently that’s the only requirement to date Zen.  
ZEN: Shut up, jerk!  
ZEN: There’s a lot of reasons I want to date her.  
707: lololol but apparently she is cute, because you’re not denying it~  
ZEN: lolol  
ZEN: She’s not just cute.  
ZEN: She’s _breathtaking_.  
707:   
Yoosung★: Do you have a picture!?  
ZEN: …  
707: omg  
707: Are u telling me the king of selfies Zen didn’t take a picture with his girlfriend?  
ZEN: She’s not my girlfriend!  
ZEN: At least, not yet.  
Yoosung★: :o!!!!!!!  
ZEN: I’ll ask her to be on our next date.  
707:   
Jaehee Kang: Zen, is that really a good idea?  
Jaehee Kang: Your fans... They won’t like this.  
ZEN: You know my fans mean a lot to me, Jaehee, but this is love.  
ZEN: I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. I’ve sacrificed a lot for the stage, but this is something I must do.  
707: lolol  
707: One date and he’s calling it ‘love’ already  
Yoosung★: She must be amazing.  
ZEN: She really is.  
ZEN: Although lolol  
ZEN: Wanna know what she accused me of being?  
Jaehee Kang: Too handsome to look at?  
Jumin Han: Too narcissistic?  
Yoosung★: Too talented?  
ZEN: lolol Kind of  
ZEN: She told me that I was too good to be true, which means I must be a...  
ZEN: **Serial killer.**  
Yoosung★:   
Jaehee Kang:   
707:   
Jumin Han: Did you try to kill her?  
ZEN: **WHAT!?**  
ZEN: **NO!**  
ZEN:   
Jumin Han: Just making sure.  
ZEN: Ugh.  
707: What an _outlandish_ accusation!  
ZEN: lolol I know, right?  
Yoosung★: How did you change her mind?  
Jaehee Kang: Better question, why are you seeing her again?  
ZEN: I don’t know, Yoosung, but I did lolol  
ZEN: Jaehee, she was just scared. I don’t think she expected someone as handsome and charming as me to ask her out.  
707: lolol yup that’s it  
ZEN:   
ZEN: My director’s calling me. I’ve got to go.  
ZEN: Talk to you guys later!  
[ZEN has left the chat room.]  
707: beep  
707: beep  
707: beep  
Jaehee Kang: **Stop that.**  
Yoosung★: Why are you beeping?  
707: It’s the sound of my pager  
Yoosung★: Your pager?  
707: Ya.  
707: Gotta buzz.  
707: BYE~  
[707 has left the chat room.]

The chair squeaks as I sit back in it, toying with my fidget cube in one hand and tapping the computer desk with the pinky of my other, digesting everything that just happened. I knew it was only a matter of time before Zen brought up the date in the chat room, but I wasn’t expecting it to quite take the turn it did. Asking me to officially be his girlfriend on the next date? There’s no way he knows I’m privy to that information but holy shit…

Not to mention he tosses around the word ‘love’ so casually when he hardly even knows me. All he knows is that I frequent the cat cafe and that he thinks I’m ‘witty’. If he truly knew who I was, would he want me?

Probably not. And that’s a thought I need to hold onto to get through this, since it’s obvious I can’t be trusted to _follow my own plan_ anymore. What got into me last time? What would make me say yes to a second date with a man I couldn’t be with even if my job wasn’t in the way?

I have to come clean on this date. I _have_ to. There’s no other way around this, I can’t be responsible for playing with Zen’s heart and consequently breaking it. He won’t be happy about it but I can probably swear him to secrecy and trust he’ll respect that I’m not ready for everyone else to know. Zen truly is a good man at heart and while he may not have been my original first pick to out myself to (that spot rests securely with Yoosung), he’ll be fine.

As if on cue, my phone vibrates and I snatch it up immediately, carding a hand through my hair as I read the text from Zen.

_Zen [18:42] - Hey princess, are you having a good night?_

Interestingly enough, the way I designed the RFA app allows you to text and make phone calls through it, so it’s not necessary to have someone’s actual phone number to contact them. Which means V and I are the only members to have everyone else’s numbers; no one else, not even Yoosung, has mine. It has to be that way since my phone can be tracked by the agency, if needed. The app has a triple-layer of security and several warnings that will sound if someone tries to hack into it, so contacting me via that is safer.

...which when I think about it, giving Zen my real number was a foolish mistake on more than one level. God, I’m _really_ off my game right now; what is it that’s causing me to make so many rookie mistakes? Something wiggles in the back of my mind, shouting in a whisper that I know the reason, but I just close the door on it and ignore it because that’s just silly. I’m not programmed to have such emotions and I won’t indulge myself in thinking I am.

That life isn’t for me, and any daydreams that allow me to think so will only lead to inevitable heartache. Unfortunately, my depression medicine doesn’t seem to cover that so I’ll try to avoid it.

 _Saeyeon [18:50] - Heyyyy_  
_Saeyeon [18:50] It’s been a busy day, so I’m tired lol  
Saeyeon [18:50] How about u?_

Vanderwood hasn’t shown up in a few days, for better or worse, which means I can expect them to show up at the literal worst time ever. So it is written in the Book of Vandy, paragraph 57, sentences 3-4:

> _And if the Master does not show themself shortly, they shall make it their Primary Objective to wait until they know it is the opportune time to catch the Subject doing something most unsavory and completely unhelpful to the Agency. If it is not only unhelpful but also hindering or even possibly damaging, the Master shall draw their Blessed Taser of Light and use it to cleanse the Subject of their Sloth and other Great Sins._

Considering the subject of the earlier conversation, I’m fully expecting Zen to want to plan the next date. Which would be fine, except that I’m not _supposed_ to be having a second date nor can I properly plan when I don’t know when the warden will be around. I haven’t talked about my job yet, but if I have to bring it up to explain why I’m not available then I’m going to have to put my unlimited dictionary of vagueries to use and hope I don’t accidently repeat myself. As last time showed me, I don’t dare underestimate how much Zen really knows about my Seven-self; if he noticed something as small as my pinky-tapping habit, then he’s probably far more perceptive than I realized.

_Ding._

_Zen [18:52] - Oh no, is my babe working too hard?_  
_Zen [18:52] - Make sure you’re eating and drinking enough, I don’t want you to get ill.  
Zen [18:53] - And take breaks. You’re important to me, you know. Take care of yourself. :)_

Ugh, why is he so _nice?_ Placing my feet against the desk, I shove off as hard as I can, sending the computer chair rolling across the room to the couch nestled against the wall. The couch I bought and stuck there specifically for when I had to work more or less non-stop, a place I could have little catnaps. The chair bumps into it still going full speed and I roll off of it onto the cushions expertly, head hitting the pillow firmly. It’s ugly, a retro design that I suspect came from America somehow, but it’s surprisingly comfortable and that’s all I really need.

_Saeyeon [18:56] lol dw I’m fine :)  
Saeyeon [18:57] I’m a pretty strong lady, nothing can keep me down! (ง'̀-'́)ง_

Dropping the phone on my chest, my hands go behind my head and my eyes flutter closed. I’m not tired, per se; at least not more than usual. I _am_ hoping to come up with a foolproof plan to put an end to all of this, though. Sometimes just a few moments of turning whatever issue I currently face over in my head is enough to help me find the correct path and start moving on it.

When my phone doesn’t start ringing, that is.

Staring at the screen, Zen’s face pops up and I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, worrying at it as I debate what to do. Should I answer? He knows I’m free since he was literally _just_ texting me, but shit, I’m being caught completely off guard again. This is _exactly_ how I end up in situations like going on a second date with him.

The screen darkens, the call ending since I took too long to answer and I exhale in mild relief. It wasn’t _really_ ignoring him since I was considering answering, right? I can just say I didn’t answer in time. It’s not a lie…

 _Zen [19:00] Hey! I’m on my way home, was wondering if I could talk to you?_  
_Zen [19:01] I miss your pretty voice.  
Zen [19:02] Unless you wanna meet up at the cafe of yours for a drink? ;)_

In all honesty, a cup of hot chocolate does sound good, and it’s Thursday, so Fo’s working. It’s been a few days since I’ve gone, partially out of fear of running into him unexpectedly and also because of the nervousness that comes from not seeing my handler for just long enough to be suspicious. Not that Vanderwood owns all of my time, but I’d just rather skip the explaining part if I have to. _Especially_ since that would likely mean them catching me as Saeyeon and… I really should just come out to them. That would resolve that part of the issue and I’m not sure why I think they’d actually _care_. ‘As long as the job gets done, I don’t give a fuck what gender you want to be.’ I can hear it in their voice now. And I’m not really behind on my work, though I’m also not ahead… Still. As long as I’m on track, they really have no reason to complain.

...wait a minute, am I actually considering this? Going on an impromptu date with Zen… now? Before I’ve formed even a half-assed plan? God. I’m going to have to stop ignoring that _feeling_ and acknowledge that I might just already be in deeper than I ever intended to be, huh. A crush that I shoved to the side early on in our friendship seems to have resurfaced, more powerful than ever. That’s _just_ what I need right now.

I’m startled again by my phone ringing, but this time I resign myself to answer. “Hey, Zen,” I say quietly, trying to force back the smile attempting to emerge on my face. Nope, I can’t do this. I can’t allow myself to be in any sort of relationship like this with him any longer. Not if it’s going to turn me into a stupid, lovestruck mess. That wouldn’t turn out good for either of us.

“Babe!” The strong voice comes through the speaker clearly and I can hear the wide grin on his face. “Hope I’m not bothering you. Hey, sorry if I made you feel awkward or anything. I assure you that’s not my intention.” He goes quiet for a moment before continuing, “I know this probably sounds stupid, but I miss you already, haha. And I know you love that cafe, so I was sort of hoping…”

“Yeah, about that,” I interrupt, sighing heavily. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I’m just… I don’t know if it’s…” Trailing off, I sit up quickly when I hear the front door’s lock disengaging. Yep. Showing up at the worst time, as usual. “Oh, shit,” I murmur, rubbing my temple.

“Is everything okay?”

The genuine concern in his voice almost kills me on the spot. Footsteps sound down the hallway and I should hang up now, I really should, before Vanderwood walks in here and makes this whole situation more awkward than it needs. But wait - are they mumbling to themselves? That’s a bad sign. A surefire tip-off to a terrible mood and no way am I putting up with that when I haven’t done anything to deserve it.

“You know what? Yeah. Sure. Give me about 20 minutes and I’ll meet you there.” Standing, I place my hand on my hip and raise an eyebrow defiantly when Vanderwood walks through the door, already glaring at me. “My roommate just showed up and I’m pretty sure she’s bitchy, so the excuse to head to my favorite place is definitely welcome.” Vanderwood crosses their arms and flexes their jaw, clearly unamused as I twirl a piece of my hair around a finger.

“Really? Awesome! I’ll see you shortly, then.”

“Yep. Bye. Mary!” I call out as soon as I drop the phone from my ear, putting on my most charming smile. “Fancy that, showing up right as I’m getting ready to go out!” Thank God this room has two doors, otherwise they’d surely block me as I stride over to the second, making a beeline for my room to get ready.

“Just what makes you think you’re going anywhere?” They growl menacingly, tailing me closely. “I’m here to pick up the information you’ve gathered so far and knowing you, it’s probably not even what I need to turn in.”

“So little faith! I’m hurt, Vandy.” Twisting my face into a pained expression, I glance at them over my shoulder. The attitude doesn’t surprise me; I’m not exactly well-known for getting things done on a timeline that makes sense. I either procrastinate and stay up for three days straight to finish a job before its deadline or I do it in unpredictable spurts.

Thankfully, this particular case has been a challenge, which means it holds my interest longer. I reached the point they wanted me to be at by now weeks ago.

“I think you’ll find everything your heart desires stacked up neatly on the table there,” I say, pointing to the coffee table as we walk past it. “Not what your heart _needs_ , but I can’t help with that.”

The rustling of paper greets me in response, and when I glance back, Vanderwood’s looking up at me with a blank expression. “Do I want to know what nonsense you’re spewing this time?”

I shrug and skip to the hall that leads to my room. “Just think you might need to open your heart to someone~”

They don’t deign my delightful singing with an answer, which is okay. I should focus anyway. Since this is more of a casual date, I slip on a soft purple dress and nude heels. The thing that always takes me the longest is putting in my contacts because honestly, who wants to touch their eyes? I know I’ve done it many times in the past for undercover missions but it still gives me difficulty to this day. Plus, these aren’t vision-correcting; they just dull my eye color so that it looks more hazel than gold. Finish off with simple makeup and my small, plain black glasses and tada! Saeyeon is ready to hit the town.

I’m almost out of the room when I realize I forgot my wig. God, stupid! I smack my forehead and quickly duck back into my room, digging out the dark auburn wig. Usually it’s one of the first things I put on, but I think the fact that I’m growing out my hair managed to trick me this time. Someday, once I’ve come out fully, I’m going to just have my real hair long. I’m hoping that day comes soon.

I dance past Vanderwood, amused to see them looking mildly impressed for once. “Bye~” I singsong, grabbing my purse. They look up and blink once in surprise, eyebrows dipping just the slightest as they take in my outfit.

“Any reason you’re dressing up or just feel like it?” they ask, cocking their head to the side. “I hope you’re not catfishing some poor soul.”

I pause with my hand hovering about the doorknob. Am I? No, this doesn’t qualify as catfishing… right? Suddenly I’m struck with doubt about my own motives. No, _he_ tracked _me_ down and _he_ asked _me_ out. I did nothing to find him and I even declined the first several times. Not to mention I’m going to come clean about this…

Maybe it’s time? I stay faced away and exhale heavily, steeling myself for what I’m about to do. “I’m trans, Vanderwood,” I say softly but firmly. “And I want to start living like this.”

There’s a pregnant pause before they let out a low whistle, followed by a chuckle. “Didn’t see that coming, but okay. As long as you get your work done, I don’t give a shit what you look like, Agent 707.”

A smile curls my lips and I type in the code to the door. “I didn’t think you would.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date at the cat cafe~

Autumn is gorgeous. The leaves changing color, gently twirling their way to the ground where they lay among a multitude of others to form a layer of crunchiness between my feet and the sidewalk. The weather cools down to a more manageable degree, the pleasant chill of sweater season a refreshing change from the suffocating humidity and heat of summer.

In my rush to leave I had managed to forget to grab a jacket. Thankfully, the last time I drove this particular car was on a mission and I’d worn one that day. My messy habits usually stop at the doorway to the garage, an almost maternal instinct demanding I keep my precious babes clean. That doesn’t extend to outerwear. In this particular case, I am both relieved and a little disappointed by this fact; while it’s nice to slip this one on and zip it up so that I can maintain my streak of driving with the top down, it’s not one I would’ve chosen to sport on a date.

...okay, that’s a lie. I’d totally wear this awesome piece of art out to any event, a date included. Painted a majestic blue background, the front is graced by the presence of a stunning gray tabby shooting lightning from its paws. It is, in the words of a certain Cat Mom, an absolute masterpiece of feline beauty.

One that I’ll apparently be wearing to the cat cafe today. Fitting, no?

Slowing down to a stop at a red light, I gaze out the window at a couple strolling down the street, hand-in-hand. A part of me yearns for that kind of life; stability, safety, love. But I made my choice years ago, and I made it for him; I can’t take it back. Given the option, I _wouldn’t_ take it back. The knowledge that my other half is sleeping safe and sound somewhere because of my sacrifice, hopefully living a happy and fulfilling life is the sole reason I can scrape by in this dreary day-to-day existence. For that, I can forsake love, a normal life. The freedom to be who I want as opposed to who I’m molded to be by my agency. As long as he’s safe, I will gladly do this for the rest of my life.

...wait, has that car been following me since shortly after I left, or am I just being paranoid? I can’t take any risks that are going to put someone else in danger. I’ll have to make sure they’re not tailing me on my way to my date. A dark purple car… a Hyundae Kona, I think? Can’t see the license plate, they’re too close. I’ll make note of that if they keep following me.

This is why relationships of any sort are taboo in my line of work; too dangerous for them, too dangerous for me. That sort of leverage has been the downfall of too many agents. Forced to remain friendless and as far removed from family as possible, it’s a lonely existence but it’s for the best. I’ve been toeing the line over recent years, far more than I should. If anyone were to manage to break through my frankly unhackable code and find out the truth of who I am, where I’m located, then the whole of the RFA would be in danger. Yoosung especially. I’ve spent far more time with him than is wise, but I can’t help myself. The draw to feel normal, to feel like a truly living, breathing person as opposed to a cardboard cutout agent is alluring, no matter how stupid it is. The knowledge that I could literally be the reason his life ends early motivates me to constantly check over my code, to rework it and improve it so that neither he nor anyone else is negatively affected because of my bad choices.

Should I take a detour to see if this car continues to follow me, or just go to where I’m planning to park and see what happens? I don’t want to lead them anywhere near Zen… There’s a mall a few blocks away from the cafe with ample parking and plenty of security cameras. I have my gun in my glovebox and a pair of flats in my bag that I’ll slip on while driving, just in case. While I can run in high heels, it’s probably not the best idea. I turn towards the mall, eyes checking the rearview mirror every few seconds.

Outside of the obvious problem, pursuing this path with Zen is an absolutely terrible idea. An abhorrent one, at the least. Knowing how love truly does create a sickness of the mind that would likely cause me to slip up and somehow put us all in danger should be enough to spur me forward on breaking things off with him. I’m not quite up to acknowledging the true depth of my feelings toward him, but one thing I know for certain is that if he means anything to me, I wouldn’t voluntarily subject him to my lifestyle. Even without the inherent risk to his life, it’s hardly fair for me to ask someone to cope with all the secrets I’m forced to keep, the dirty work I must do in the darkness of my soda-stained computer room. I’m a cockroach, unkillable until the day I meet my exterminator, be that on a mission or by means of an incredibly pissed-off maid. Who would choose to stay with me, clinging to their phone as they wait for something, anything to indicate that I still draw breath despite the odds against me?

My grip on the steering wheel increases as the mall approaches, the nervousness and apprehension I thought I’d trained myself to ignore nudging their way back into my consciousness. God, I don’t think I could stand it if something happens to him because of me. This is stupid, this whole thing was a terrible idea and now he’s going to pay for my stupidity.

I seriously need to get a grip on myself. Whatever it is that’s causing me to swoon right into Zen’s arms needs to be locked up, caged away so that it can’t see the light of day. It’s unsafe. Even _if_ Zen were to be okay with who I am and _if_ he wanted to continue this… this courtship or whatever it is, I still couldn’t. A master of disguise I may be, but nothing is completely foolproof. And what of the day when I no longer need to wear the wig? When I drop the contacts? I might as well be painting a giant bullseye on his forehead and shoving him onto the stage he loves so much.

Could I have chosen an easier target?

No, no, I can’t think like that. I can’t think of him as a target. Or should I? Would that help put some distance between us, help me remember all the reasons I need to end this? If he were the boyfriend of someone I was targeting, he’d be so easy to take down. To kidnap and use to extract any and all information I needed. He doesn’t deserve that.

The parking lot is crowded but there’s still a few empty spaces. I slowly turn into one in the back and watch as the Kona parks on the other side, a few cars down. My hand hovers over the glove box as I wait for the door to open, prepared to duck and fight back if I have to. Out comes a foot, then a leg, and then…

An elderly woman who struggles to pull out a walker after she exits.

Slumping in my seat, relief washes over me. It was a false alarm, but what if next time it isn’t? I back out and drive over to the center where I attend my trans support meetings, still on edge. Now that I’m here, more nerves pile on top of the leftover adrenaline rush to make me feel like one large ball of anxiety. Deep breaths. It’s okay. There’s no reason for me to be more nervous than I am before a field mission. It’s not like Zen’s someone who’s going to pull out a gun and shoot me point blank like some of the people I’ve faced in the past. He’s just a man. A friend.

And that’s all he should stay.

My hand hovers over the zipper to the jacket; should I take it off, or can I wear it? It’s not that I’m concerned about his opinion on how I choose to dress, but whether or not he’s seen my other self in it. Usually I sport my trademark black and yellow jacket, but sometimes Vanderwood decides it needs washed (heathen). No, the only person I can recall having ever seen it is Yoosung when he came over one day. He’d complained about being cold, so I’d tossed it at him. Then I should be fine.

The walk to the cafe somehow passes by quicker than normal despite my slowed pace. Every click of my heels sounds ominous, almost making me feel like a criminal all dressed up and heading to her death. It’s unnerving that the prospect of breaking things off with Zen affects me this much already. I’m way further gone that I thought. Hopefully it won’t affect my work. The last thing I need is Vandy threatening to taser me because I’m suddenly too depressed to function.

Today he’s sitting outside, brows furrowed as he reads through what I presume is a script. As I approach I can see his lips moving soundlessly as he mouths the words, one finger tapping his chin as he tries to delve into whatever character he’s playing. If there’s one thing I can say for certain Zen is, it’s a workaholic. He’s been rehearsing his new musical for a little over three weeks now and yet here he is, still going over the lines as though they’re brand new. It’s admirable. The complete opposite of me.

His head doesn’t move when I open the door to go in to order, but it’s hard to say if that’s due to him being so focused on his practice or if he’s just used to others coming and going by now. Either way, it buys me a precious few minutes to try to calm myself down more before I’m forced to socialize with him.

Fo is indeed behind the counter today and to my surprise, they’re not alone. Rare are the times when I see a new face in this joint, but it must be my lucky day. There’s a new person to learn about, and from the looks of it, someone of European descent. That’s even more interesting; it’s really cool to hear about other countries from nationals, regardless of whether or not I’ve been there myself.

“Saeyeon! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here this early!” Fo calls out, already spinning around to start making my hot chocolate. “Here, I’ll show you how to make her order,” they say to the person next to them, beckoning her over to the machine. At least hot chocolate is easy instead of some complicated coffee order like Jaehee might get; the trainee has it done by the time I’m pulling out the won to pay for it.

When she turns around to hand it to me, I find myself face-to-face with dark brown hair and glasses framing kind eyes. There’s an air of intelligence about her, enough to make me wonder what she’s doing working in a coffee shop. “Thanks,” I say, flashing a lopsided grin at her and sliding the money across the counter. My eyes drop to the name tag and my brows furrow. “Prose?” That’s an odd name. Not that I’m an expert on trends in other countries, but it doesn’t strike me as something typically given to children.

“Yeah. It’s what I prefer to go by,” she says, her speech slow and a little halting with a hint of an accent. I remember Fo being like that when they first started, too. Learning fluency by immersion is a wonderful tool, though. No doubt, in time, Prose will speak confidently.

But I also like to stretch my foreign language skills from time to time. Sometimes I’ll speak Spanish with Fo, but with this person I’m going to try… “You know, your pronunciation is already quite excellent,” I compliment her, swapping to English. “I’m going to guess you’re from an English speaking country, though? Your accent is minimal but I can still hear it. North America? United States, perhaps?”

A dumbfounded look crosses her face a moment, Fo giggling in the background. ”Canada, actually,” she responds, reaching up to push the bridge of her glasses up her nose a little more.

When she doesn’t say more, I probe further. “So what brings you to my part of the world?” I ask casually, pulling the drink toward myself and smiling kindly. Canada is a place I’ve never been, and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from there, either.

Prose’s eyes search my face a moment before she answers, probably trying to decide what level of creepy I am. “My fiancé was offered a job here,” she finally says, and that’s when I notice the ring on her finger. In my defense, she hadn’t really kept her hands in my view but still, I’m generally more observant than that. I need to scrape my mind off the pavement before I miss something important. “We decided to give it a try. I’m going to work here until I can find something else.”

“Makes sense, make sense,” I say, nodding as I take a sip. I have a million more questions I’d like to ask her, things about the area she grew up in, what type of job she’s looking for, does she like cats? Unfortunately, I don’t know how much longer I can viably stall before signing my fate and meeting Zen. “Well, welcome to Seoul and The Cat’s Meow~! I come in pretty regularly so maybe I’ll see you occasionally. Fo’s usually my go-to person but if we keep it a secret, I’m sure I can sneak time to see you, too,” I tease with a wink, pulling back specifically to catch the pout on Fo’s face. “There, there, you’ll always be my favorite otter. No one will ever replace you.” My assurance is all it takes to put that cheerful smile back on their face. It’s a nice feeling, being able to make others smile. Maybe someday I can do it more often.

Picking up my cup, I stand and brace myself to turn around and head out the door. Before I get a chance, Fo tilts their head to the side in curiosity. “So… did he actually manage to convince you to go out with him?”

I hesitate, mind racing through possible answers and discarding nearly every one. Maybe the truth would be best. “Yeah, but it wouldn’t work out. I’m going to break it off today,” I admit with a sad smile. Fo’s face drops and before I know it, they’re pressing a pastry into my hand.

“On the house,” they whisper, gazing at me sadly.

I can’t stand being looked at like that. Pity is not something I’m searching for and I don’t deserve it, anyway. “Thanks,” I mumble, blinking forcefully and nodding as I quickly make my exit. As soon as I’m outside and taking a large breath of fresh air, I’m chiding myself for hurrying. Out of the frying pan and straight into the fire. Such is the way of my life.

Zen’s still entirely focused on the script before him, oblivious to my presence even as I slowly meander closer. It’s no wonder he ends up eating convenience store food and take out if he gives everything about his work this much undivided attention, because he likely loses track of time. He literally dances the night away in rehearsal. Jealousy flares to life in the depths of my heart and I’m forced to take another deep breath to calm myself down. Not only is it stupid to be envious of the piece of paper in his hands, it’s something I have no right to feel. Zen is not, and will never be, mine.

With a soft sigh, I take the final steps forward and sit across from him, raising my eyebrows when he still doesn’t notice. “That must be a really good script.” I keep my voice quiet but loud enough for him to hear and take a sip of my drink as I wait for his reaction.

He does not disappoint. Startled, he jumps just the slightest, some hair falling forward to cover one eye as he tears them away to look at me. The shock is quickly replaced by a warm expression and he sets the script down, smiling at me in a way I can only describe as affectionate. My heart jumps hard enough that it nearly hurts and I clench a hand into my dress, forcing myself to maintain my amused demeanor instead of the thousand other emotions rushing through me. Shit. Okay. It’s okay, I can do this, it’ll hurt less to go through with my plans now as opposed to later.

“Actually,” he starts in that soothing baritone of his, “it is. This is my first time reading through it and I’m surprised at how fun it looks.”

My brows knit together as I stare at him in confusion. “But aren’t you already rehearsing for a musical?”

Laughing heartily, Zen nods and reaches across the table to pat my hand. “Yeah, I am. Somebody’s been doing their homework on me, huh?”

“What can I say? Noogle is a girl’s best friend.” Truthfully, that was a slip. One of already too many I’ve made around him. At least he’s an idol, so there’s an abundance of information about him on the internet. That gives me a good cover for anything that isn’t _too_ personal.

He leans forward, eyes sparkling with humor. “Had to make sure you couldn’t find a list of my victims, right?”

I nod seriously. “Absolutely. Needed to be  positive that there is nothing out there about you being the next Jack the Ripper.”

“Uh… who?”

Snickering, I take a sip of my hot chocolate before answering. “English serial killer who generally targeted prostitutes. Not the prettiest of murders, to be honest.”

Raising an eyebrow, Zen sits back and folds his arms across his chest, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Is murder ever pretty?”

“Maybe if you’re the one doing it. But I didn’t find anything, so I guess you’re in the clear.” What a morbid conversation to be having right now. I’d rather talk about something else, something more interesting, like… “So what’s that, then?” I ask, gesturing toward the script he’d been reading only moments before.

“Oh, uh, it’s actually a script for a game. A dating simulator of some sort. What did she call it…” Zen picks up the script and frowns at it in thought. “An… auto-me game?”

“Otome?” It’s difficult holding back my laughter at how he says it, but I somehow manage. “Are you going to voice one of the characters?” I ask, reaching out a hand for the script. Surprisingly, he hands it over with no hesitation. “Foolish Hope, written by…” Another odd name. Must be that type of day. “...Rixsig. Huh. Is it any good?”

“Yeah, it sounds cool,” Zen answers, giving me a small smile. “My character is definitely interesting. It’s made by Rix and a friend of hers, and they’re willing to work around my schedule to record my lovely voice, so I think I’m gonna do it.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head as I hand it back to him. “Singing, acting, modeling, voice acting… is there anything you’re not planning on doing?” Other than modeling for a cat food ad under Jumin. That one is, unfortunately, a no go.

“Letting you get away,” he answers smoothly, that confident smile stretching across his face once more.

Heat rushes into my cheeks but I refuse to back down, meeting his flirtatious gaze head-on. “~You made room for me but it’s too soon to see if I’m happy in your hands~ I’m unusually hard to hold onto~” I sing, leaning back with an easy smile on my face. “I’m kinda slippery. Like a fish. Unless you hook me, good luck keeping ahold of me~” Because I have absolutely no self-control, I suck in my cheeks to mimic a fish.

A laugh bursts from him, muffled by his hand but no less surprising to me. Had I done something like that as my other self, he’d have been annoyed. The guy really is blinded by gender. Well, maybe this will be easier to break off than I thought.

“Fish Saeyeon,” he teases, shaking his head.

“Your pal, a fish~!” I smack my ‘fish lips’ at him a few more times before laughing as well. Ah, it feels good to just let go sometimes and be silly.

“So I just need to find what hooks you, huh?”

 _You already have me, hook, line and sinker._ “Yep! Good luck on your scavenger hunt.”

Zen smiles and takes a sip of his drink, grimacing a little. “Not a huge fan of coffee,” he admits as he sets the cup back down. “But I think I know more about you than you think. You like cats, books, sushi and despite how serious you try to come of as, you like joking around.” _Guilty as charged._ “You _don’t_ like new people approaching you. You avoid talking about yourself as much as possible and I’m guessing you don’t like your job since you never bring it up. What do you do, by the way?”

Holy shit. How’d he figure all of this out? “...computers. I work with computers,” I answer in a slight daze, both impressed and worried. “Security and stuff. How do you know I don’t like strangers approaching me?”

Zen shrugs. “I’m not really sure? I just do.” When I narrow my eyes at him, he reaches around to scratch his neck and laughs awkwardly. “Well, I mean, I have noticed that you watch everyone around us like you’re expecting them to do something, I dunno, _bad._ And if they look like they’re gonna approach us, you stiffen up.”

Yeah, because I’m constantly sizing up everyone to see if they might be an agent of a rival company. I can’t trust anyone outside of the RFA, so I prefer to be the one initiating any conversation so I can direct it and look for tells. Not to mention I have a mild case of social anxiety.

“So you’re the new Sherlock,” I joke weakly. God. So much more observant than I ever gave him credit for.

“No, I just pay attention to people I care about,” he says dismissively, leaning forward and placing his forearms on the table. “And I want to learn everything there is to know about you, princess. I want to know who the woman Saeyeon is, what she likes, what she hides from everyone arou-“

“I’m trans.” Despite my heart fluttering at the endearment, that seemed like the best chance to blurt out the truth. Okay, maybe not the _best_ opportunity but I’m such a coward that I likely wouldn’t have done it later.

Confusion crosses his face and his fingers twitch on the tabletop. “You’re…?”

“Trans. I’m a trans woman,” I repeat, any confidence gone from my voice. This feels like I’m coming out not as a way to end this date but as who we really are, the friends we’ve been for years. My heart is racing and my stomach is rolling; this is terrifying. How am I supposed to do this _for real?_

“Trans.” Zen falls back against his chair heavily, eyes unfocused. The silence hanging heavily in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife as he blinks slowly, thumb and forefinger playing with the collar of his jacket. I can read people pretty well thanks to intensive training on how to do so, but all I can see right now is the shock portrayed in his eyes. He’s already managed to train his face back into a neutral expression while he processes this bomb I rudely dropped in his lap, his acting skills coming in handy once again.

 _Tick, tick, tick._ The small watch on my wrist suddenly sounds like a gong, each second causing the already small amount of hope that he’d not care to ebb away further. The entire world has narrowed down to this table, the only people Zen and myself. No one else matters in this moment. Shifting in my chair a little, I start to tap my pinky and chew my lip as every moment passes, feeling the inescapable pang of rejection well up inside. This is it. This is the end.

That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The end to this dalliance of ours.

Then why does it hurt so much?

Heaving a long sigh, Zen closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Well, I can’t say I was expecting _that.”_ He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before dropping his hand to look right at me, sitting up straighter. “But a woman is a woman, right?”

I’m so flabbergasted that I lose all of my ability to dredge up any words to respond, so I simply nod. A woman is… a woman? Is that his way of saying it doesn’t matter?

His gaze softens and he reaches across to take my hand, rubbing his thumb over mine gently. “Don’t look so surprised, babe. Did you think that would change how I feel about you? It’s… different than anything I’ve done before, and you might have to uh, be patient with me later on but I still want to give this, us, a try.”

Holy shit. Holy. Shit. “Are you serious?” I whisper, not daring to believe what he says is true. For a moment I forget my other identity, forget all of the reasons that I can’t be with him. There is a man in front of me who is willing to try to love me as I am, as a whole. I never dreamed that this could happen to me.

Zen smiles and stands, tucking his script back into his pocket and downing the rest of his drink with a shudder. “Will you go on a walk with me? If you don’t believe my words, maybe I can show you?”

When I stand, it’s with unsteady legs and I stumble slightly. One hand closes around my arm to help me regain my balance but when I look up, he’s giving my jacket a discerning look. His brows dip for a moment as he seems to consider something, then shakes his head and smiles warmly at me. “I know I’m breathtaking, but please don’t fall on my account~”

With a groan I shove him away playfully. “Oh my god, stop. Your looks don’t affect my ability to walk.”

“No? Well I know something that might.” That’s the only warning I get before he pulls me into his arms, one hand coming up to cup my chin as he slowly dips his head down to press soft lips to mine. My eyes widen for a split second and I gasp in surprise before surrendering to him, my hands sliding up the sleeves of his jackets to rest on his shoulders. Letting my eyelids flutter closed, I return the kiss, my heart racing. I’m kissing Zen.

I’m kissing Zen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles* time to cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~time skip~

-6 weeks later-

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’m _incredibly_ stupid.

That kiss was just the beginning of my slide down the slippery slope into a full-blown romantic relationship with Zen, flowers, dates and all. He took me on a walk where we talked a little about the prospect of future dates, which was honestly mostly him convincing me of all the reasons I should let him woo me. I told him it wasn’t going to be easy to win my heart.

I lied.

Being with Zen is like an addiction. He makes me feel comfortable, happy, even. Helps me to forget all the negative things I deal with, all of the dirty things I must do for my job. His acceptance of me as the woman I truly am sparks a courage in me I never knew I had, and suddenly I’m far more confident about myself than I ever was before.

On the flip side, being away from him is similar to going through withdrawal. My head hurts and I can’t focus; I can’t sleep or eat, always craving more; more time with him, more gentle hugs, more kisses. God, I’ve only ever touched people when absolutely necessary and even then, it’s mostly on missions or when I’m teasing Yoosung. Having someone touch me affectionately opened up a side of me I never knew existed. It’s created a monster.

A monster constantly at war with the fact that I am lying to him by not explaining who I am.

Today had been a pretty terrible day for me, all things considered. Vanderwood had been extra grouchy again, taking the work I’d dutifully completed and lecturing me about daring to have a personal life that involved someone other than the RFA. They weren’t exactly appreciative when I pointed out that technically Zen _is_ a part of the RFA and had actually pulled their taser on me, warning me that if my work falls behind remotely, they’ll report me to the boss. Shouldn’t they be sending him flowers and thanking him instead of threatening me? After all, I’ve been working _ahead_ just to make sure I could make time for Zen when he wants.

Nonetheless, between that and the additional work they dumped on me before leaving with a vaguely threatening goodbye, I was ready to write the day off as terrible and drown my woes in even more Ph.D. Pepper and Honey Buddha chips while slaving away at the computer. I even logged onto the chat room just to complain a little even though no one else was on. I’m sure Jaehee and Zen will be adequately annoyed later when they have to scroll past my ten crying emojis.

It was a pleasant surprise to have Zen call me a couple of hours ago, offering a relaxing night in at his place with pizza and bad television. Of course I jumped all over that, because A) pizza, B) away from my computer and C) cuddles with Zen!

Which is how I’m now leaning up against his side, his arm around my shoulder and head resting on mine as we watch some cheesy sci-fi flick that has a pretty cliched romance in it. It’s whatever. It has aspects that we both enjoy and it allows us to spend time together.

The pizza box lays mostly empty on the coffee table in front of us, only a few slices left after we’d both dug hungrily into. He’d asked during the call what I like to drink and had already purchased a 12-pack of Ph.D. Pepper by the time I came waltzing through his door in my sweater dress and leggings.

The warmth from being pressed up against him fills me to the brim with a kind of peace I’ve never known and I find myself snuggling closer, pulling my legs up to rest on his lap. A quiet chuckle resonates in his chest and he leans over, putting down his beer next to the pizza so he can rest his hand on my calf, thumb rubbing softly against the fabric there. These past six weeks with him have been wonderful, allowing me to see a softer side of Zen I never knew existed. He’s always surprising me with flowers and little gifts, texting and calling to check up on me to make sure I’m well. I’m… not used to this, to having someone care so much about me and my well being. Not to mention he always checks with me about what I do or don’t like before planning dates - this man really knows how to plan a killer date - and _remembers_ what I tell him.

His happiness has spilled over into the chat room, too. Everyone has noticed how much brighter he is and have asked several times for pictures but I keep turning him down. What if someone recognizes me? I tell him I’m not ready for my picture to be taken yet - and it’s true. He always respects that and says seeing me every week is enough for him. The most marked difference in the chats that I’ve noticed is that he seems to have a much higher tolerance for my jokes now. Apparently he just needed a girlfriend to appreciate my stellar sense of humor.

The movie starts to approach its end, the major issues resolved and we watch as the man and woman come together in the most cringeworthy way that could possibly be written. Even the kiss is painful to watch. It’s impossible to hold back my snicker and Zen huffs out a soft laugh in response. “What, too cheesy for you, babe?”

“I’ve seen worse,” I admit, shifting to look up at him. The expression on his face as he gazes down at me is warm, affectionate. It makes my heart speed up and heat rush to my cheeks just seeing it. “...but the movie overall was definitely amazing.”

“Amazing?” Zen asks, raising one eyebrow and giving an exaggerated shudder. “Babe, I think we need to work on your taste in movies.”

I inhale, pause, watching as he raises the other brow and waits expectantly before saying, “amazingly awful, that is. Next time I pick, and you’re going to sit through the movie adaptation of my favorite book by Cannibal Kats.”

“I should’ve known you’d say something like that.” His hand shifts from my calf to cup my cheek and he leans down, close enough for my breath to catch. “Thanks for coming over to watch it with me.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Placing one palm on his chest, I push him back a little and narrow my eyes, looking at him suspiciously. “I was promised ‘bad movies’, plural. Are you backing out of that promise, mister?” The palm turns into a finger that I jab threateningly. “Do. I. Need. To. Punish. You.” Every word is purposefully clipped as I hold back laughter.

His eyes darken just the slightest and he wraps a hand around my wrist, dragging that finger up and placing a kiss on the tip. “I’m yours to punish as you see fit, although I do have another lined up right after this.” I shiver, pulling my lip in between my teeth and watching him intently as he presses another kiss to my wrist. “But maybe we can take a break first?”

Despite my wish to close the distance between us that instant, I can’t resist teasing. “If that’s what my master desires♥~”

Some emotion flashes across his face in the space between heartbeats, one that I can’t place. “It is,” he says roughly, pulling me up toward him and slotting our lips together hungrily. Kissing isn’t something I’ve done a lot of in the past, but I’ve done enough to know that Zen is an absolutely remarkable kisser. Hopefully I’m at least decent so he’s getting a somewhat close to equal exchange.

The feeling of his arms wrapping around my waist is so perfect and I melt against him, not resisting when he tries to tug me even closer. A tongue licks insistently at my lips and I eagerly open my mouth to allow it access, moaning quietly when it drags against mine. I shift so that I’m sitting on his lap better, knees on both sides of his legs and grasp hold of his shirt, leaning further into the kiss. Our make out sessions can get pretty heavy but we’ve never gone further than kissing. As much as I want to at times, I just can’t do it. Not when he doesn’t know the full truth.

He never pushes me. It’s likely he believes I want to take things slow. I’m not inclined to correct him.

“Saeyeon…” he breathes as he pulls back, laying hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw and my neck. My hands fist even tighter into the taut fabric and I tilt my head to the side, shivering at the feel of his lips brushing across my skin. Hearing him call my name like that, my _true_ name… it makes me feel crazy.

The press of teeth against my collarbone yanks a gasp from me and I unintentionally roll my hips down, groaning when he grips my waist and rolls his up in response. “Z-Zen…” With a full-bodied shiver, I let my head tip back as I gasp for air. This is new. This is new and amazing and absolutely something I should not let continue. But when he moans and bites down in earnest this time, I can’t stop myself from repeating the action.

His hands slide down to my hips and I feel fingers digging into the skin there as he holds me in place, grinding up slowly against me. “Is this… okay?” he asks in a gravelly voice, always the gentleman even in the middle of something like this.

No. I should say no and then we’ll stop, maybe kiss some more and go back to cuddling while watching whatever terrible movie is next in line. “Yes.” Damn. “God, yes, it’s okay.”

The hum in response sends tingles throughout my body from where his lips press against my neck, and he starts moving back up slowly. As soon as he crests my jaw he’s claiming my lips once more, this time in a kiss full of desperation and a passion I’ve never experienced before, all the while rolling those hips against mine.

“Saeyeon,” he murmurs against my lips between kisses, “you’re so amazing.” I kiss him even harder, the compliment sending warmth blooming throughout me. “God, I’m so lucky to have met you.” It’s so weird to hear someone say that to me, about me. No one ever thinks that.

“I love you.”

I freeze instantly, eyes snapping open to look down at him. Did I… did I hear that right?

It takes only a second for him to realize something is wrong and he stops moving, leaning back to look up at me with kiss-swollen lips. Concern instantly replaces the lust in his eyes as he takes in my wide-eyed expression. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, is it too soon to say that? Haha… it just kind of slipped out…”

It feels like my chest is on fire, the flames sucking all of the oxygen out of my lungs and leaving me to suffocate. No, this… this can’t happen. This is bad. He can’t be in love with me, that’s about five steps beyond what is acceptable. Oh my god, what have I done?

Shoving his hands off of me, I slip out of his lap and stand, gazing at him in horror. Oh, fuck, oh god. I should’ve broken this off when I had the chance, I should never have let it get this far, how could I have done this? I knew I was a terrible person, a bad excuse for a human being but I never thought I would get this low. Not… not on purpose.

Zen stands as well, reaching out for me. Hurt flashes in his eyes when I jerk away from him. “Babe, what’s wrong? I’m sorry if that was too soon, I… I won’t say it again if you don’t want me to… Just tell me what to do to fix this?”

“You can’t,” I say, my voice lower and thick with emotion. Clearing my throat, I try to readjust back to the octave I prefer to speak in. “This isn’t… this isn’t you. Oh god, Zen, I’m so sorry, I… I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I… You can’t love me. I have to go. Now. We can’t… we can’t be together. You’d never want me if you knew who I used to be.” That last part hurts the most, because I know it’s the truth. It’s hard to hold back the tears crowding my eyes but I still try with all my might, not willing to break down any further in front of him.

I turn and bolt, managing to make it to the door before a hand wraps around my arm. “Please, Saeyeon, don’t run from me,” he pleads, his voice desperate. “Please, whatever it is you think I won’t like about you, you’re wrong! I know all I have to. Please, I know who you-”

“No!” I wrench my arm from his grasp and push him away roughly, wincing when he staggers back into the table. “No, you know nothing.” Tuning out the rest of what he has to say, I yank open the door and dash out into the night, thankful that I’d worn regular shoes instead of high heels this time.

I run the two blocks to where I parked, holding the tears in until I’ve slammed the door behind me. My head falls forward onto the steering wheel and I sob, holding nothing back as wave after wave of despair and regret crash into me. The pain in my chest makes me wonder if this is what it feels like to have my heart break. It’s the least I deserve after letting Zen fall for me, fall for who I truly am without first telling him that I’m also his friend, Seven. Well, ‘friend’. A true friend is better than this.

Guess Vanderwood was right; I was catfishing some poor soul. And now I’ll have to choose between coming clean and losing a friend or continuing to live a lie.


	6. Chapter 6

Yoosung★: Hey has anyone seen Seven lately???  
Yoosung★: It seems like it’s been awhile since he’s been on;;;;  
Yoosung★: Is he that busy with work?  
Jaehee Kang: He did mention last week that he had extra work at his job. Maybe that’s it?  
Yoosung★: Maybe…  
Yoosung★: But he still usually logs in even when he’s super busy  
Yoosung★:   
Jaehee Kang: That’s true…  
Jaehee Kang: He likes to use the chatroom to procrastinate.  
Yoosung★: Maybe one of us should go check on him?  
ZEN: I’ll go!  
ZEN: I have today off anyway.  
Yoosung★: Let us know what you find out!

The RFA doesn’t know I have a backdoor built into the app so that I can watch them without being logged on to the actual chat room. It’s not something I use often, but I have been keeping an eye on it over the past week. I set it up to alert me if any of my aliases are mentioned so that I can make sure something doesn’t happen like what’s going on right now.

I don’t need anyone banging at my door at the moment, let alone Zen. It’s going to be a while before I can face him again.

[707 has entered the chatroom.]  
Yoosung★: Seven!!!!  
707: Hey hey hey~  
707: Aww, you guys were worried about me?  
707: I’m touched.  
707:  
Yoosung★: Yeah!! It’s been days since you last logged in  
ZEN: More like a week…  
707:   
707: Sorry.  
707: Jaehee is right.  
707: How is anyone supposed to live like this;;;  
707:  
707: When will I be freeeeee  
Yoosung★: Do you need help?  
707: lolololol  
707: If I let you see what I’m working on  
707: I’d have to kill you!  
Yoosung★:   
Jaehee Kang: ...I’m afraid to ask how serious you are with that.  
707: lololol  
707: **Then don’t.**  
ZEN: I’m still coming over.

Mayday, Mayday! Abort mission, abort mission before any more troops are killed!

707: **No!**  
707: No need to! I’m alive!  
707: Alive and a slave to work;;;  
707:  
707:  
707:   
707:   
Jaehee Kang: **Stop hogging the chatroom.**  
707: Oh! My maid is coming back!  
707: Time for me to go T_T  
[707 has left the chatroom.]

I log out, then slip quickly in the backdoor to watch what happens next. I need to know if I should be expecting Zen to show up or not.

Jaehee Kang: He’s alive and as strange as ever.  
Yoosung★: That’s goikd  
Yoosung★: okh no muy priiofsser cauht me  
Yoosung★: bye  
[Yoosung has left the chatroom.]  
ZEN: That boy needs to stop using the app in class;;;  
Jaehee Kang: Agreed. He should be paying attention to his studies.  
Jaehee Kang: Are you still planning to go to Luciel’s, Zen?  
ZEN: Yeah. I have something I need to ask for help with.  
Jaehee Kang: Well, good luck.  
Jaehee Kang: I should get going as well.  
ZEN: Have a good day, Jaehee!  
ZEN: Hope that trust fund jerk doesn’t give you too much work;;;  
Jaehee Kang:   
Jaehee Kang: That makes two of us.  
Jaehee Kang: Bye..  
[Jaehee Kang has left the chatroom.]  
[ZEN has left the chatroom.]

Ugh. My arm drops to my side, dangling partially off the side of the bed. Letting the phone fall to the floor with a thunk, I roll myself over, burying my face in the pile of blankets. This is so _frustrating_. I let out a loud yell, trying to release some of the tension coiling in me. It doesn’t work. What on earth can he need help with that can’t wait until I tell him it’s fine to come over?

Honestly, it’s probably something to do with Saeyeon. Wants me to look up more info about her, help him find a way to convince her that he doesn’t care and that he loves her no matter what.

That’s a bit of a difficult thing to do, since Saeyeon is _me_ and I haven’t left any imprint of her online other than that sole tripter account.

I should shower. Even if he’s only coming to use me for my admittedly awesome hacking skills, he doesn’t deserve to keel over at my feet because I have toxic body odor. I’ve been sulking for the past week, only doing the minimum amount of work to scrape by and self-care hasn’t been high on that list. Gross, yes, but I haven’t exactly felt up to doing more than pining over someone I can never have.

Well. Better get moving if I want to be done by the time he gets here.

-oOo-

I’m just slipping my jacket on when my security system alerts me that there’s someone at my door. One glance at the camera screen sends my heart racing; it’s not the highest quality but he’s still gorgeous, still the man I fell for. There’s no denying my own feelings anymore. Just as he’d confessed that he loves (loved?) me, I also love him. Which is quite the predicament to be in.

Two steps to the keyboard and then I’m typing in the code to let him in. It hurts. Everything about this hurts. Not just the love that can never be fulfilled, but the fact that I’m dressed like this. Not the clothes themselves. The fact that I’m hiding who I am. The only thing about me indicating something might be different is my hair, and it could be interpreted as me being too lazy to get a haircut.

The click of the door resounds throughout the room and I exhale heavily, arranging my features into a semi-neutral expression. Hopefully I can manage to pull off the 707 persona in person. In front of an actor.

Maybe.

Zen comes strolling in, holding a takeout bag in one hand and sporting a wide smile. “Seven! It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve seen better days,” I admit, tugging on the cord to my headphones. “Been working a lot. Need to have some rest time with my beautiful Elly~”

“Good luck with that,” Zen snorts, rolling his eyes. “That jerk won’t let you near his penthouse ever again with how you treat that fur ball.”

I gasp, eyes widening and feigning offense. “Excuse you, sir, but I treat her like a princess. No, like a _queen_.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever, dude.” He nudges past me toward the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter there before opening the fridge and helping himself to a water. The way he leans back against the counter emphasizes the spectacular build of his body, and the memory of how it feels to be snug in his side flashes through me.

Not helpful.

Anxiety is curling throughout me the longer he’s here. I shove both hands into my jacket’s pockets to hide the fact that my hands are shaking, my desire to throw my arms around him and tell him I love him, that I want to be with him sorely testing my self-control. How is it possible that my heart can feel so full and yet so hollow at the same time?

“So, uh. You said you needed my help with something…?” It doesn’t seem like he’s going to broach the reason he’s here on his own so I take matters into my own hands. The sooner I figure out what he wants, the sooner I can do it and get him out of my sight. I’ll crumble if he’s around too long.

Uncapping the bottle and taking a swig, Zen wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before nodding. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about my girlfriend, Saeyeon.”

A shiver crawls down my spine. I force out a lopsided smile, raising my eyebrows. “Ah, so you came to ask God 707 for romantic advice? Good choice, good choice. For the low fee of 10 honey buddha chips a minute, I can use my magic fingers to find any information you need on the special lady in your life~”

“Well, I don’t have any of those, but I have something else you might be interested in.” He takes another drink of water, then pushes the bag toward me. “Here. I brought this for you.”

Brought for me…? It’s not my birthday nor a holiday. Why would Zen be giving me anything? Unless it’s one of his DVDs. It’s probably one of his DVDs.

Okay, focus. I can do this. I just have to tell my hand to stay still and not give away my current state of mind. I’ve been in far, far worse situations than this. I reach out a finger and hook the bag, dragging it closer to me. It’s not that heavy, but whatever’s inside is too big to be a DVD.

I can feel his eyes carefully observing me as I open it, finding myself face-to-face with a container of sushi and a single red rose laid on top of it. I blink. Once. Twice. Furrow my brows.

“Do you want me to find her and give this to her? Because I’m not sure that I can-“

“No,” he interrupts, pushing off the counter and walking over to me, glancing in the bag as well. “Like I said. This is for you.”

For me. He bought sushi and a flower. For me. For Seven.

“Well, I’ll admit, this is a pretty good bribe, haha.” _Keep your cool, Saeyeon, you can do this._ “I knew eventually my charm and dashing good looks would win you over, but I never dreamed it would be like-“ My pitiful attempt at a joke dies off when he reaches out and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, laughing softly.

“I know who you are, Seven. I know you’re Saeyeon. I was waiting until you decided to tell me, but… I miss her too much. I miss you.” His voice drops to a whisper at the end and he smiles, dropping his hand. “Please don’t hide from me anymore.”

If life were a cartoon, my jaw would be on the floor right now and my eyes bulging out of my head. As it is, I’m sure I look comical enough with utter shock plastered all over my face. “H-how?” I eke out, completely flabbergasted.

“Well. At first it was just a feeling, kind of like deja vu. Something seemed so… familiar about you. So I started to pay attention. It all added up.” Fingers lightly touch my arm, sliding down to rest on the back of my hand. “The pinky thing, the PhD Pepper, the obsession with cats. The wacky sense of humor, that weird jacket. Your job. You look… different, but once I looked closer, not really.” His hand closes around my wrist and he tugs me a little closer toward him, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek. “And it’s okay. You’re trans, and you’re my girlfriend. And I love you.”

There’s tears stinging my eyes and I have my mouth covered with one hand, just staring up at him, not quite sure what to think. Maybe I’ve finally cracked and gone crazy from lack of sleep? There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way… he knows… and still wants me…

“God, babe, you look so tired,” he murmurs, rubbing the dark circles under my eyes. “You really need to get more sleep.”

“I haven’t been able to…” I shake my head, trying to wake myself from this dream. It’s not possible.

“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping like shit lately too. Didn’t want to lose you and was agonizing over how to convince you to stay with me.”

“I… Zen. Even if… even if you… my job…” My ability to form coherent sentences seems to have gone completely out the door as it starts to sink in that this is reality. That Zen is here, that he brought me sushi and a rose and he loves me. _Me_.

“Hackers are dangerous, like roaches, shouldn’t get involved with them, right?” He huffs out a laugh. “I’m not worried. I will gladly shoulder any risk as long as I get to be with you.”

“That’s…” I can’t hold it back any more and I fall forward into Zen’s arms, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I can’t ask that of you…”

“You’re not asking me. I’m saying I’m doing it no matter what.” Arms wrap around me tightly and I cling to him. A hand strokes through my hair softly. “Seriously though, please take better care of yourself. I get worried. Have you even eaten yet today?” When I shake my head, he sighs. “Then come on. You’re going to eat some of that sushi if I have to feed it to you.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Zen’s going to aggressively take care of me. And the best part?

It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left! Thank you all for following me on Saeyeon’s journey~


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took this journey with me and for all the wonderful support you’ve given me! This was fun to write and such a joy letting these two find happiness.

Disappearing was the hardest part. It’s not easy to convince an intelligence agency that you no longer exist. It took six months of planning and another six months for me to actually enact the plan - plus dealing with a constantly concerned boyfriend who just wasn’t able to stop mothering me in fear that something would go wrong.

In the end, it went off without a hitch, as far as I can tell.

I hid for a while, biding my time in the darkness knowing that eventually I’d be presumed dead and the agency would stop watching Seoul and Zen. The handy thing about being a genius hacker is that getting into their servers to keep an eye out for when that happened wasn’t much of a challenge.

Still, that took far longer than I wanted. By the time I could come back, I’d managed to grow my hair out to a length I was fairly happy with and had sculpted a completely new identity for myself as a ‘legal’ citizen.

After a few years of deliberating, the couple who owned The Cat’s Meow decided to sell it and I snapped it up as soon as that happened. You’re now looking at Saeyeon Choi, owner of a cafe and fiancé to a certain musical actor. There’s a lot of rumors about me, but since I made my own profile, there’s no proof that I was ever anything other than a woman. Most of it is an alias, not at all reflective of my real life but one thing is true: I have a brother, and I listed him as well. He now legally exists as my ‘fraternal’ twin, and as the son of two Americans who decided to move to South Korea with me, he’s safe from any suspicion about who he really is… should he ever show up again.

Maybe one day I’ll seek him out.

Zen’s out at his final rehearsal for the musical he’s in before they open on Friday night while I’m watching over the cafe, a quiet spectator in the corner like usual, Kaycee curled on my lap. Our wedding is in a few weeks, in the down season. I never thought I’d get married, but here I am.

The door chimes and I glance up from the book I’m reading, something tugging at me internally to pay attention. A white haired boy is up at the counter, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, one sleeve dangling off an arm to reveal an odd tattoo. He doesn’t bother to keep his voice down as he asks, “I’m looking for Saeyeon Choi. I heard she works here?”

“Over here,” I call out, my welcoming smile freezing when he turns to face me. It can’t be…

“Saeran?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buahahaha
> 
> This isn’t the last you’ll see of Saeyeon >:3c

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
> I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as [cutiesaeran](http://cutiesaeran.tumblr.com/) or twitter [@MysticHawke](https://twitter.com/MysticHawke/)!


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